


Fall.

by idgit_with_a_fidget



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Resurrection, Trust, falling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-31
Updated: 2013-03-31
Packaged: 2017-12-07 02:26:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/743100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idgit_with_a_fidget/pseuds/idgit_with_a_fidget
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean and Cas play a game of trust exercises.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fall.

"Fall."  
Cas peered at Dean quizzically, tilting his head to one side like an inquisitive animal. "I can't Fall on demand, Dean. It is a process."  
Dean rolled his eyes and outstretched his arms, inviting.   
"No, idiot, fall. It's a trust exercise."  
They stood in the scrapyard, surrounded by mountains of crushed cars and lonely metal shards rusted orange by the sun and years spent in the damp, unused. The sun was high in the noon sky, and the air wobbled. It was Spring.  
"But I do trust you, Dean," Cas pressed, tone and face strained slightly with increasing confusion, determined to make sure the hunter realised that his faith had been renewed.   
Dean groaned impatiently, exasperated. He'd gotten the idea from a cheesy show on the television, and thought it would be fun to try out, as well as prove to Cas that he was strong enough to keep him upright.  
"Don't worry, I'll catch you."  
The angel frowned, a thin film of perspiration on his brow. The layers of clothing he wore did not suit the weather.   
Initially, naturally, he was hesitant. Dean dropped his arms to his side and wiped his forehead on his sleeve.  
"You're right, this is dumb-"  
"No. Dean," Cas interupted, suddenly urgent. "I want to try it."  
Dean arched an eyebrow suspiciously.   
"Alright. Walk forward a couple paces and turn your back to me." Cas obediently did as he was told and Dean outstretched his arms again. "Okay, fall."  
Cas fell like an achour in the ocean. Dean darted forward and rushed his arms up underneath the angel's securing him in his grip. He felt like a solid iron statue. He staggered a little, bit into his lip until he felt a throbbing. Cas' hair tickled his bare arms, in the crook just below the fold of his shirt. He took a breath and set the angel back on his feet. He smiled.  
"See. Easy."   
Cas thought, eyes tracing the dusty floor beaneath his shoes. He was lost for several moments as though a dozen ideas had suddenly entered his mind, bringing souvenir memories with them once lost. He held his arms up.   
"Fall."  
Dean blinked. "What?"  
"I want you to fall. Like I did. I'll catch you."  
Dean smiled. "Okay, fine. I like this game." He took several paces away from his friend and turned his back. "Ready?"  
"Yes. Fall."  
Dean glimpsed over his shoulder, a sudden spike of anxiety jabbing him in the ribs. He then turned back and shrugged. He tottered backwards.  
Suddenly, Cas was against him, rough and forceful. Dean jolted, surprised, as he was thrown back onto his feet. Cas was scowling, blue eyes bright and stern.  
"No."  
Dean splayed his hands, searching Cas' face. The angel's fingers were secure in his shoulders like a vice. "What? I didn't do anything wrong."  
"Do it again. Follow my orders."  
"I did-"  
"No. I want to teach you something."  
"What, that I trust you? I get it. I know you do."  
"Dean."  
There was a brief quiet. Dean sighed and gave in, taking steps forward and turning his back to the angel. Cas cleared his throat.  
"Now fall. Forward."  
"What?!" Dean spun round and glared. "No way, you won't-"  
"Dean."  
That word was enough to silence him. The hunter inhaled shakily and faced the scrapyard, feeling suddenly isolated and vulnerable. But he had to trust Cas. If he couldn't trust Cas with a stupid exercise, what was the point in trusting him at all?  
He closed his eyes and fell forward.   
He felt air, harsh and fast against his clothes, and he could sense the ground spriting up to meet his face...  
And then the whoosh of wings, and Cas, arms clutched around him, secure and protective.  
Dean exhaled with relief, burying his nose in the soft fabric of the trenchcoat, feeling the heat of the sun on the other man's stomach.  
The strong hands rocked him upright onto his feet, and Dean stooped before steadying himself. He could feel the colour speed back to his cheeks and he smiled gingerly at Cas, getting his breath back.  
"Thanks, man."  
Cas was smiling at him, mouth still closed, but pride like a physical glow around his face.   
"So what was it you were going to teach me?" Dean asked, perching on the boiling hot hood of an abandoned car.  
"Resurection," was the simple reply. "When you fell, you fell further than any man should have to fall. And I pulled you back up. You may fall again, further, harder, land rougher. It might be a physical fall, or an emotional or spiritual fall, but a fall nonetheless. And you will have to put your faith in me, or in maybe even in my father, to catch you and put you on your feet again, even if you don't think we will, even if you fall headlong, thinking that you are alone and that you are vulnerable. I will always catch you, Dean. Always. Don't live in fear that I won't, do not have doubts that I will. You cannot catch yourself. Not always."  
The words dangled in the air, simple yet so very complex. Dean played them over in his mind, contemplative. He smiled, laughed sheepishly. He looked at Cas, who stood like an awkward figurine on a mantlepiece, a child's clay model that seemed ever so slightly out of place, yet was still home.   
"Huh. Resurection, huh? Appropriate for this time, don't you think?" he smirked, and Cas nodded.   
Dean tugged at the trench coat fondly. "Just so you know, if you ever Fall, I'll be there to roll your stone away, too."  
A warm, tender aura overcame the angel's face, and the scrapyard was filled with an odd serenity.  
"Thank you, Dean."


End file.
